


The Iron Seer (An Iron Fey Series Prequel)

by racheesy16



Category: Iron Fey Series - Julie Kagawa
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Death, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Fantasy, Iron Fey series, Mythical Beings & Creatures, POV First Person, Plot, Plot Twists, Political Intrigue, Posted Elsewhere, Pre-Canon, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions, Revenge, Romance, Royalty, Secrets, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, The Iron Fey, Tragedy, Unseelie Court, Violence, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheesy16/pseuds/racheesy16
Summary: When a fateful hunting trip goes awry, Ariella Tularyn, the only daughter of the Duke of Glassbarrow, is granted her lifelong wish of traveling beyond her isolated home - at the price of losing someone she loves. Cast suddenly into the web of Unseelie Court intrigue, she meets an enigmatic prince whose silver eyes enchant her. And seeking revenge for the death of her loved one, Ariella faces the obstacles in her path, including a fragile and dangerous new love and the discovery of a destiny she never wanted. A role that may determine the future of the entire Nevernever.Based on the world and characters of the Iron Fey series by Julie Kagawa. This is an excerpt from the full-length fanfiction on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/83370801-the-iron-seer
Relationships: Ariella Tularyn/Ash





	1. Not A Memory, Nor A Dream

The snow drifted like ashes around the hunting party of three standing atop Icedagger Peak.

The Duke of Glassbarrow stood at the summit of the peak, his ageless face twisted with frustration at the tracks in the snow where they stopped abruptly at his feet. They'd been following the ice wyrm for several days now, but it had so far eluded them, no matter what traps they set or how well they planned. And now this. There was no evidence to indicate that the ice wyrm had flown away - there were no telltale snowdrifts where its giant wing-sweeps would have swept the snow aside. There was only the large mound of snow in front of him, marking the apex of the mountain, but nothing to indicate where the ice wyrm had gone.

He turned back to his companions, who were also considering what could've happened that the trail had gone so cold. "It must've flown off," his captain, North, was saying, "and the signs from its passing were blown away by the wind last night."

North was the Duke's most trusted servant, advisor, and friend. He had known him since he himself was but his daughter Ariella's age, just shy of twenty mortal years - a distant, fading memory by now. Hundreds of years had passed, though he looked not a day older. When the Duke first met North, they'd become allies out of necessity, two men from lesser nobility clawing their way up, seeking Queen Mab's favor. It had taken centuries and him winning his title from the Queen for them to finally become friends. The Duke trusted North like he trusted no one else - no one except his late wife, Crystalia.

Shortly after their only child was born, she had been killed on a hunting trip much the same as this. The ice wyrm that had killed her was dead; he had killed that beast long ago. Now he spent these hunting trips tracking down as many remaining ice wyrms as he could and slaughtering them, only partly for revenge. The truth was, he missed her. And being in the mountains where she perished, where her body transformed into a bush of lovely blue winter roses, made him feel closer to her. Made the emptiness inside him ache less, somehow.

"But wouldn't the wind have covered the tracks as well?" Izotz questioned. He was a young satyr who worked in the stables. The Duke would rather not have brought him, as an inexperienced member of a hunting party only made it harder to be stealthy in pursuit of prey. But North had insisted on taking him along, assuring him that the satyr would not slow them down, and the Duke had finally relented. Over the week they'd spent in pursuit of the creature, Izotz had earned the Duke's grudging respect. The lad had a fair mind and keen eyes, which were useful traits in a hunting companion.

"So where is it?" North growled, glaring around as if the giant wyrm might suddenly pop out of the snow.

And then he suddenly understood. Clever creature, he thought. "It's still here," he started to say, just as the snow mound behind him erupted in a shower of white, and the ice wyrm let out a tremendous roar.

It was a hideous monster, with a pale, leathery hide and a long, snarling snout with wickedly sharp tusks. Its huge, bat-like wings flared as it lunged for the Duke.

As he leaped aside, he flung out a hand, sending a hail of ice shards at the ice wyrm. Most of them barely grazed the creature, nicking it and drawing long lines of red across the thick hide, but a few of them pierced the wing membrane, enraging it even further. The wyrm turned to pounce on him.

North flung himself in front of the Duke. He didn't have time to flee or string his bow before the monster plowed into him, jaws closing around his torso. He let out a howl of pain but managed to stab the wyrm in one eye with his hunting knife before his body went limp and then shattered like a pane of glass, shards of ice splintering into thousands of irreparable pieces. And just like that, the Duke's only friend was gone.

With a piercing screech, the beast reared back as inky blue blood spewed from its eye where the dagger was still lodged, and the edge of its wing struck him in the chest, sending him sprawling across the snow.

The Duke saw that Izotz lay a few feet away, one of his horns snapped off where it struck an outcrop of black rock peeking through the snow. He hadn't seen the satyr go down - probably blasted back by the initial eruption of snow - but he was unconscious and could not come to the Duke's aid.

But he had fought more dangerous foes, been in far more battles than he could count. He had helped win a battle against Summer for the Queen of Winter centuries ago, the feat that had earned him his lands and position, and ultimately his marriage to Lady Crystalia Tularyn, the younger half-sister of Lady Chillsorrow. Even two-hundred years later, that one fateful battle that had finally obtained him his title was etched into his memory, as perfectly clear as if it had happened yesterday. He could still hear the roar of dying creatures, feel the spray of blood on his face and the cold, vicious glee of fighting beside his Court, his Queen, killing hated Summer fey. This creature may be dangerous, but then the Duke was not exactly harmless either.

The ice wyrm turned on him, snarling. "You," it rasped. "You killed my mate."

It took all of his effort not to groan as he rose to his feet and drew his sword; he was certain several of his ribs were broken. He grinned at the beast, though he felt the pit inside him flicker painfully with the memory of his own sorrow years past, his loss of Crystalia. You killed my mate. The irony of the situation was not lost on him - his wife killed by an ice wyrm, this wyrm's mate killed by him, a neverending cycle of death and grief and revenge. "I've killed many of your kind," he replied, goading the monster to attack. Let sword and tooth and fang decide their fate. The Duke did not go on hunts to make chitchat.

The wyrm hissed. "You will die, elfling. I will rip you limb from limb." It stalked closer, and the Duke swore he saw it smile. He finally felt the sudden cold rush of fury at the death of his friend that he knew had been coming, felt the pulse of his glamour respond to the feeling. He would make this creature pay dearly for what it had done.

"You may try," he said, an open invitation.

The monster sprang at him. The Duke dodged, and the wyrm barreled right past him, its teeth closing on empty air. He slashed out with his sword, severing the thick tail that whipped by his head.

But the ice wyrm whipped around, lightning swift, swiping out with its powerful claws, knocking the Duke back as its maw opened, breath reeking of carrion. It sank its poisoned teeth into his chest as he raised his arm and swung out with his sword, burying it in the creature's side.

With a scream that echoed across the mountains, the beast collapsed, releasing the Duke, their blue and crimson blood soaking the snow around them.

***

I woke up with a gasp, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked wildly around my bedroom at the Glassbarrow manor, barely seeing the familiar furniture or the faint winter light pouring through the gap in the curtains.

On shaky legs, I rose from the bed, crossing the room, and leaned against the wash basin, trying to slow my breathing as my head spun dizzily. The ice wyrm's shriek still echoed in my ears, the white glare of the ice imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. I could still feel the touch of the wind and see clearly the peak and the snow-capped mountains around it, the snarling jaws of the beast and the blood-splattered snow.

It was not a memory; nor was it a dream. I'd been having these visions - there was no other word I could think of to describe it - for a while now, and they were true. Sometimes I would have the visions long before the event occurred, sometimes moments, but once I'd had a vision, whatever occurred in it came to pass. Without fail.

The visions that had come before this were simple. The flash of a vase shattering moments before an elbow knocked if off a table, or simply knowing that Tiaothin would ambush me with a snowball by my archery practice tree. At first, I hadn't understood what the visions were or what they meant, but after being pelted in the face with a snowball, I'd come to realize that these were visions of the future. But never before had a vision been so vivid, so clear, or lasted so long. I knew where it would happen, and I knew approximately when. I was still reeling from it - I had felt a connection with my father's mind, heard his thoughts, even seen flashes of his memories.

My father. The Duke of Glassbarrow, who would soon be dead from ice wyrm poison. If I didn't do something to save him.

***

My name is Ariella Tularyn.

That's the name I was given at birth, at least. I don't know my True Name, the name that expresses my entire nature, every secret of my mind and heart. It can take centuries for someone to find their true name, and I've only been alive for twenty years.

I am the Duke of Glassbarrow's only heir. My mother, Crystalia, died half a year after my birth on a hunt in the mountains around my home. Her death is the reason that I've never been allowed to leave Glassbarrow, though my father states that it's only because he can't afford to lose his heir. It's a half-truth, something he says so that he won't appear weak to potential enemies for loving and caring about me; if I appear to be only a resource to him, then I am not a weakness. Because in the Winter realm of Tir Na Nog, enemies are everywhere, and they will take advantage of any vulnerability, any emotion. They will use those you love against you.

And I loved my father, more than anyone, even if he did not allow me to visit the Winter Court or venture outside our lands. It was naive and selfish, but I couldn't help thinking it: That maybe if I saved him, I would prove to him that I have what it takes to survive. That he doesn't have to protect me from everything.

These thoughts flitted through my mind as I went quickly to my wardrobe and threw on a pair of plain gray pants and my favorite indigo tunic, then slung my bow and quiver of arrows over one shoulder. The familiar weight was comforting.

I tossed my silver-white hair in a messy braid over my other shoulder, tying it quickly with my mother's blue ribbon, the only thing I had of hers besides a few blurry memories. I wouldn't even know what she looked like if it weren't for the portrait of her hanging in my room.

I glanced at it now, where it hung above the fireplace, and there she was.

Crystalia Tularyn. Looking at her picture was like staring at a reflection. Alabaster skin white as fresh-fallen snow, the heart-shaped face, the soft shape of the rosy mouth, the high cheekbones, the delicately pointed ears, and the large teal eyes flecked with silver starlight that seemed as if they were always smiling.

There were differences, though. Crystalia's hair was a raven-black, where mine was the same pale color as my father's, like fine thread spun from moonlight. And while my mother had been petite and fragile as a snowflake, I had inherited my father's build - tall and willowy. The bearing of a queen, I'd been told. Not that I'd ever seen our Queen. I had never been outside of Glassbarrow.

Your beauty is another reason why the Duke never lets you leave, North had told me once, when I was fed up about not being allowed to go on yet another hunt. Wherever you would go, an army of suitors would pursue you, and your father would have to punch them full of icicles to get them to leave you alone, he'd said, a rare grin on his usually serious face.

I'd shot an arrow at his head for that joke, saying that of course there wouldn't be many potential suitors on a hunt - pretending offense, though secretly I was flattered - and only missing because I meant to. Whatever I felt for North I hadn't yet figured out, or known whether he felt the same way at all, or even if it was just some silly, childish infatuation and he only thought of me as the the Duke's daughter. And now I would never get to find out if there was more, because now.... He was gone.

Gone. As if he'd never existed. Faded into nothing. No souls, no afterlife. Just shards of broken ice and the curling mist of memories barely there and, someday, forgotten.

That was the fate of myself, of everyone I'd ever known, all of the fey, even the immortal fey nobles such as myself and my father - the Fade came for us all, eventually. Immortality only lasts as long as you're remembered.

North, I thought. Can I still save you? Could I get there in time to stop the wyrm from killing him? My chest ached hollowly, and for a moment it was all I could do to keep moving, to keep breathing.

I slipped out of my room, into the hallway. The estate was already bustling, servants taking a break from gossiping, pretending to be busy with their morning chores as I passed, though I ignored them. If I needed the ice wyrm poison antidote, I had to find Madame Isolde, the estate's housekeeper and apothecary.

She'd also been my teacher since I was very small, and a strict one at that. While I daydreamed of riding far, far away Isolde had kept me inside, practicing penmanship and arithmetic until my fingers were stiff and aching from writing. When she was feeling nice - which wasn't very often - she would give me lessons in healing, something that, while not as exciting as archery and horseback riding, was fun for the fact that I would sometimes be allowed to venture into the forest to pick herbs necessary for brewing certain potions and remedies.

Luckily, after only a few moments of asking around and scouring the drawing room and the servants' quarters, I found her outside the kitchens. Though by the expression on the gnome woman's scowling, wrinkled face, I realized it probably wasn't luck at all that I'd found her: she'd been looking for me as well. In fact, I didn't even have time to speak before she told me exactly why.

"That contemptible, irksome poltergeist of a phouka put frozen frogs in the porridge this morning," growled the housekeeper, glaring at me as if I had done it.

Madame Isolde didn't allow me to get a single word out before she continued her rant, seeming to glare down at me even though she was only as tall as my knee. It was a talent of hers - staring down her nose at everyone, height differences aside. I almost admired her for it, except that the look was directed at me as much as everyone else.

"If I had my way, I would've thrown her out of the house ages ago, but because you are her friend - for reasons I cannot fathom - I've given her a fair bit of leniency," Madame Isolde continued, swelling with indignation. "But this is the last straw - I'm done with tolerating her disrespect and bothersome devilry. You can tell her that I'm done cleaning up the messes of a common servant such as herself, and the next time she does anything like that again, she'll be hanging from the ceiling by those furry ears of hers."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I looked down at the housekeeper.

The phouka girl, Tiaothin, was a common source of dispute between myself and Madame Isolde. Tiaothin was my friend - a friendship that the housekeeper blatantly disapproved of. This was, in part, because Tiaothin was no more than a common servant - company a lady should not be keeping, according to Madame Isolde, despite that at Glassbarrow, everyone knows and treats everyone else mostly the same regardless of rank. But the main reason Isolde despised Tiaothin was because the phouka could simply not resist causing trouble, the kind that involved frozen frogs in porridge or the like.

"I will tell her the next time I see her, Isolde. I -"

She cut me off before I could ask her about the ice wyrm antidote. "Shoot her full of arrows for me, would you?" she asked gruffly.

The gnome woman stalked off, snapping at a pair of maids eavesdropping by the door, and I almost called after her - but then I had an idea. A better idea than asking for the housekeeper's help - one that would probably take less time anyway, keep my visions a secret, and one Tiaothin would definitely approve of. In fact, I was counting on her participation.

I hurried into the kitchen. It was steamy and uncomfortably hot - how any Winter faery could stand to be in here all the time was beyond me - but I found the certain piskie I was searching for soon enough. He was perched on the highest shelf, teasing the cooks below, who would occasionally swat at him with a spoon as they passed by.

"Briskie," I said, by way of greeting. A crooked grin stretched the piskie's tiny white face when he saw me. He ceased his taunting and zipped over to me on gossamer wings to land on my shoulder, buzzing maniacally.

"Lady," he said, his words nearly incomprehensible due to how fast he talked. Blue-striped white hair stuck up in spikes atop his head. "How may I be of service?"

I lowered my voice to a whisper and began to walk out of the dining room. "I need yours and Tiaothin's help to create a diversion. I need to steal something out of Madame Isolde's office."

Briskie flashed his needle-sharp teeth and cackled evilly, giving me an affectionate tug on the earlobe before he zoomed off to do my bidding, no questions asked. He didn't need an excuse to cause trouble, and neither did Tiaothin. Sometimes, it was a good thing to have a prankster or two in your pocket - or on your shoulder, in the case of a certain mischievous piskie.

***

I was hiding in a broom closet outside of Madame Isolde's office.

Inside, I could hear the gnome woman muttering harshly to herself and the sound of her shuffling papers and apothecary instruments around. I had to wait only a few moments before there was a gigantic crash, the sound of someone shrieking, and crazy laughter from somewhere in the manor.

My friends were nothing if not reliable when it came to making trouble.

Madame Isolde left to investigate, grumbling under her breath, and I crept into her office, a single room that seemed more storage than infirmary, with only one cot in the corner where the healer occasionally put her patients. If all went well, my father would be lying there soon.

North, though... I pushed the thought from my mind. If I thought about him, I would dissolve into a mess of helpless tears and my father would die.

Jars clustered on shelves next to old, dusty apothecary volumes. Labels marked each container, and it wasn't long before I found it. The ice-wyrm poison antidote was a small vial of green liquid about the size of my finger and a little thicker. I recognized it from my time spent learning remedies from Isolde herself; it was tricky to make, with over a dozen very rare ingredients. I tucked it into my pocket, then headed for the back door out of the manor to the stables.

When I opened the door, a gust of icy air blew over me, pleasant and refreshing rather than cold - being a Winter sidhe, I never felt cold temperatures. The saying went that this was because 'ice was in our blood,' which was a rather poetic way of referring to Winter glamour, the magic that came with being part of the Unseelie Court.

The landscape around the manor was as it always had been: White. A forest of dark evergreen trees, boughs heavy with powdery snow, ground laden with heaps of it, the Glassbarrow mountains in the distance capped with it.

At the sight of those mountains, my chest constricted again, the fear from my dream rushing back to haunt me. Was my father up there now, bleeding into that snow, turning it red with his blood?

But no. As I cast my eyes to the sky, I knew I had at least a little time left before the events I'd witnessed in the vision would occur. At least, I hoped.

One of the stable boys gave me a curious look as he saw me saddling my horse, but after a hard glance from me, he made no comment. As I climbed into the saddle, I addressed my storm-grey mare, Wind. Though I'd never actually been to the wild, dangerous Glassbarrow mountains, I'd studied the maps often enough to know exactly where we needed to go. "Icedagger Peak," I told her.

Wind snorted and flicked an ear back, indicating she understood. Her hooves didn't touch the ground and made no sound as she charged into the shadowed woods, though they kicked up tendrils of swirling mist. I urged her to go faster. Wind obliged, racing faster with every stride and leap over fallen logs and snowdrifts.

I could only hope that I would get there in time.

***


	2. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of her father's hunting injury and the death of her friend, Ariella is faced with an invitation to the Unseelie Court to attend the Winter Elysium in her father, the Duke of Glassbarrow's, stead.

The ice wyrm's shriek still echoed in my ears, the white glare of the ice imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. I could feel the touch of the wind and see clearly the peak and the snow-capped mountains around it, the snarling jaws of the beast and the blood-spattered snow.

It was not a memory; nor was it a dream.

My name is Ariella Tularyn, and I'd been having these visions for a while now.

The Duke of Glassbarrow, my father, would soon be dead from ice wyrm poison. If I didn't do something to save him.

I could only hope that I would get there in time.

The pile of shattered ice that had been North lie at my feet, already fading into nonexistence as I watched. In the place of his body, a small evergreen sapling sprang up from the sparkling snow, reaching toward the sky.

I was too late, I thought. I'd known that I would be too late to save North - my only hope was that I could get the antidote to my father in time - but seeing it was another thing entirely.

All of my memories of North rose up, an unrelenting tide of images. Teaching me to shoot a bow and arrow, ignoring my father's disapproving frown; passing me his dessert after dinner with a conspiratorial wink, scandalizing Madame Isolde. Comforting me in those brief, rare moments when the loss of my mother came back to me and threatened to crush me under its enormous weight.

I felt like that now, but North was no longer here to wrap his arms around my shoulders and tell me stories. I had to be strong by myself now, even though I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest, leaving only an aching hollowness behind. And so I forced myself to turn away, scanning the rest of the mountaintop.

The first thing I noticed was this: The ice wyrm was nowhere to be seen. For this I was glad - I didn't want to fight it. Not right now.

I heard a groan and my head whipped around. There, collapsed on the snow, was the Duke. "Father!" I cried, and ran to him, flinging myself to my knees beside him. His eyes opened a fraction, glassy with pain, but they focused on me as he breathed, "It got away."

"Shh, it's okay," I soothed, though even as I said it and beheld the blood and the injuries, I knew it wasn't. The puncture wounds from the ice wyrm's poison-tipped claws were deep, so deep that it seemed impossible that he was still alive. The poison must be spreading through his system by now, causing unbearable agony as it slowly killed him.

I fumbled for the vial in my pocket, unstoppering it and pressing it to my father's lips. "Drink," I ordered, and he opened his mouth and let me pour the green liquid down his throat without complaint, though he winced as he swallowed. "We need to get back to the manor right now."

His brows furrowed. "How did you find me?"

I just shook my head. Izotz was getting to his feet, a hand to the red gash on his head as he stared wide-eyed around the peak, and I yelled to him. "Izotz! Help me carry him!"

The young satyr helped me get the Duke into the saddle of his horse, which I had found in the forest on the way up the mountain. As we began the breakneck journey back down, I glanced back over my shoulder, once, at the place where the ice wyrm had vanished, and told myself that one day soon, I would track it down and kill it for what it had done.

North, I swear it.

***

I was standing outside of Madame Isolde's office again. I had been waiting for the gnome woman to reemerge for a while, pacing so much that Tiaothin had joked that I might be wearing a trench into the floors. I'd glared at her, in no mood to be made fun of, and she'd grinned, but left me alone after that; slinking off along with everyone else, who Isolde had ordered to get back to their usual tasks before disappearing into her office to heal the Duke.

Our arrival back at the manor had been chaotic, everyone rushing about, still panicked from whatever destruction Tiaothin and Briskie had wreaked as a distraction for me to get the vial. They'd unscrewed the bolts in the ceiling that held the wyrm-tusk chandelier - which I'd always hated - suspended above the foyer. The sound of it crashing to the floor had caused Isolde to rush off to investigate. Tiaothin informed me that the look of horror on the old prune's face had been priceless, but at the moment I was a bit too preoccupied to enjoy the idea of the horrible chandelier's demise or Isolde's shocked face when she discovered it.

If the antidote wasn't enough, if there was too much ice wyrm poison in my father's system... he would die. Running a shaky hand through my now-loose hair, I tried to convince myself that he would be fine. Otherwise, my mind went to dark places. Places of violence and destruction, blood and death. Every time I thought of North, my veins pounded with the urge to kill the monster who had done this, my bones aching of a sadness so deep I didn't know if it would ever end.

I halted my pacing, my heart thundering, when the door finally opened.

"How is he?" I asked Isolde immediately, tugging anxiously on a strand of my hair.

"The Duke will live," the gnome woman replied, sounding tired. There was blood on her apron. She sighed when she caught my look of relief. "You did well with the antidote. If you hadn't found him, he would be dead by now."

"May I see him?"

"Yes." The gnome woman let me pass, but as my hand closed over the door handle she growled menacingly, "I know that you stole the antidote, and that the chandelier was not a coincidence."

I froze, grimacing. Of course, I should have known she'd make that connection. I glanced back at her, dreading. I prepared myself to be saddled with a week of chores. Even though I was the Duke's daughter, I was not free from that variety of punishment. All were treated the same under the housekeeper's brutal rule. Chores might not even be a bad thing; they might provide a welcome distraction from my thoughts.

To my surprise, the gnome woman just smiled, and didn't even bring up the topic of punishment. Her tone was one of resignation and the smallest edge of curiosity. "If you wanted the antidote, you should have asked."

And maybe I should have. Perhaps I would have been able to save North had I only asked, instead of avoiding the possibility that I might be questioned, that I might have to tell her about the visions. It would have almost been a relief to not be alone with this secret anymore. A part of me recoiled from the idea at the same time as I thought it, as I realized with a painful jolt that it didn't matter what I could have done, because North was gone now. "Would you have believed me?" I asked Isolde.

She shook her head. "I don't know how you knew, but it doesn't matter. I will let it go this time, Lady Ariella." If she noticed that I was startled by her formality, she didn't stop speaking, but pressed on after a brief pause. "If it weren't for you, our Duke would be gone."

My chest tightened, and I smiled back for a moment, feeling a strange, sudden surge of fondness for the ancient gnome that felt totally out of place. Me, fond of Isolde? Tiaothin would cackle forever if she knew. I turned the door handle and went inside.

The Duke was on the cot in the corner, looking much paler than usual. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his breathing heavy. He opened his eyes when I came in.

"Ariella," he rasped. I swallowed and sat on the stool next to the bed, taking his hand.

"I'm right here," I said, stroking his hair out of his face. It was the same color as mine but a little longer, hanging down to his waist in a loose silvery curtain. I smiled at him, a little feebly. Seeing him like this was unbearable - it made my stomach ache with a mixture of anger and helplessness. "Isolde says you'll live."

He smiled weakly back, his eyes glinting with exhausted amusement. "Yes," he agreed."I suppose I shall. Because of you." He paused, the smile disappearing and his brow furrowing. "Ariella," he began, eyes piercing. I sensed what he was about to ask and tensed. "You found me so soon after.... According to Isolde, you never left the estate the entire time I was away. And yet you knew where I would be and when, and even knew that you needed to bring the antidote..... How?"

How did you know?

I wanted to tell him about the visions - but something inside me screamed not to say a word. I decided to tell him half the truth, at least. "Something.... felt wrong when I woke up this morning, and I sensed that you were in danger. I guessed where you were because I study the maps of the mountains every day." I took a deep breath, adding, "And I thought bringing the antidote would be a good idea, considering what you were hunting."

The Duke's eyes narrowed. "That's quite a bit of forethought."

"I was worried about you."

He could tell there was something I wasn't saying; centuries of experience made him perceptive. His gaze darkened. "Ariella, it is very dangerous for you to leave the manor without protection." I bristled, but he continued in a calm, firm tone, repeating a variant of the speech he'd given me many times. "You are my only heir, and I cannot afford to lose you." He kept going. "If the ice wyrm had killed me and it had still been there when you showed up, you could be dead right now. Then there would be no one to pass my title to. One of my rivals could seize my lands easily."

I slipped my hand out of his. "This is different. You would have died if I hadn't been there to save you."

My father pinned me with his gaze. "You will not endanger yourself for my sake again, Ariella. I have not worked for centuries to lose everything because you cannot exercise proper judgement."

"This isn't about me saving you!" I sputtered. "This is about you never letting me leave Glassbarrow!"

The Duke's eyes flashed with fire, and when he spoke, his voice was frigid and final. "Your place is here. Here you are safe, and here you will stay."

Anger flared, and I stood abruptly from the stool. I was tired of being ignored and pushed aside, of my father pretending not to love me and treating me like a precious commodity instead of his daughter. I was tired of him looking at me as if I were a constant reminder of what he'd lost. "No," I said, too loudly, anger clouding my tone, and my father's face hardened. I knew I should stop before I said something I regretted, but my mouth opened and I said it anyway. "You're only saying that because you are afraid you will lose me like you did my mother. You can't protect me forever, because some day, something will happen that you cannot prevent. Someday I will leave Glassbarrow and never come back, and you will never see me again."

I turned on my heel and marched out of the room without a backward glance, the guilt I should have felt over the things I'd said to my father overshadowed by the sudden weight dragging down on my heart. The heavy certainty of those last words, knowing that they meant something extremely important, but not knowing what.

My skin prickled. The words you will never see me again echoed in my head, touched with a ring of prophecy. They weren't a halfhearted threat of an angry daughter to her overprotective father. They were a promise.

***

Over the following days, my father had been moved to his chambers, put on bedrest. Madame Isolde was unsure how long it would take him to recover. I felt guilty and angry about what I had said to him, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize or even go in there and yell at him again for fear of what his reaction would be. He was not cruel, but I had acted out enough in the past to know that he did not take disrespect well. I would pace outside his door for a while each day, trying to build up enough courage to do something, but always ended up retreating to my room after a while, giving it up as hopeless. The rest of my time was spent scowling at my books, trying to study, though I was unable to concentrate on anything but the whirling, dark thoughts that hung over my head like a grey and black storm cloud.

The days got closer and closer to Winter Elysium - the time when members of the Unseelie Court gathered together and hosted the Seelie Court to celebrate Winter and make peace treaties with Summer. And with each day, my restlessness grew. Would my father recover enough to attend.... Or would someone have to go in his place?

One morning, Isolde came to my father's study, where I was responding to a letter from one of the other nobles of the Court, the Baroness of Bloodbrook, about wine, of all things. Since the Duke was on forced bed rest from Isolde, I was, temporarily, in charge of Glassbarrow. It was incredibly stressful and time-consuming.

Isolde let herself into the Duke's study and closed the door behind her with a click that made me look up. She mumbled something under her breath, and I saw the walls of the room shimmer with glamour - a soundproof shield to eavesdropping ears. No servants would be listening in on this conversation.

"Is something wrong?" I asked hesitantly.

The gnome lady pinned me with a firm stare and nodded to a chair by the fireplace, where blue flames danced. "Sit."

I obeyed without question; Isolde had her no-nonsense face on, which meant that whatever this was, it was important. Important enough for her to use a soundproofing spell, important enough for her to want to keep whatever was about to be said between the two of us.

"What is the value of stories?" she asked me, her gaze intense.

I gave her a strange look. "Is this a lesson?"

She sighed impatiently. "Of a sort. Do you remember?"

"Yes." I trusted Isolde to have a purpose for this conversation. Unless she'd finally lost her sanity to Tiaothin's never-ending stream of pranks. But I was reluctant to believe this, because if the unshakable housekeeper had lost it, I had no hope left for Glassbarrow - this place could not function without her. "Stories are the source of all magic. They fuel fey glamour, and without them, the humans would forget us and we would all fade into nonexistence."

"Then you know that stories are all real, of course."

This drew me up short. "Real?" I repeated.

Madame Isolde gave a disbelieving snort. "Have I taught you nothing?" she seemed to ask the ceiling. Then she ran a hand over her face with an annoyed huff and took a deep breath, as she always did before launching into a long lecture. "I have told you countless stories of the Wolf, also known as the Hunter. One of the most powerful fey in existence, older than the Summer and Winter Courts themselves. He has hundreds of stories about him. The boy who pranked his village one too many times and got eaten for all his mischief; the girl in the red cloak who the Wolf tempted off the path in the forest. These tales fuel the Wolf's power; the more humans believe, the stronger he is. They're not just fables that humans tell their children at night to scare them into being good. The words of the story might change, but make no mistake: Each and every one is true."

I stifled the urge to ask her what her point was. "If they're all real, then why does no one remember what really happened?"

Her tone dripped condescension. "Those who live the stories do. They always remember the true story."

Obviously missing the point, I gave up. "Why did you come to speak with me, Isolde?"

She settled an extraordinarily piercing stare on me that made me intensely uncomfortable. Trying not to fidget, I bore her intense scrutiny until she finally spoke. Her words were strangely soft. "Some stories have yet to come true; some will never become true. Some stories," her eyebrows drew together, "are visions of the future."

My heart lurched over a beat, then picked up with frightening speed. "What are you trying to tell me?"

A knowing look sharpened her eyes, curved her thin lips, causing the wrinkles around her mouth to fold into the uncharacteristic expression of a smile; sour, but still a smile. Her age-yellowed teeth gleamed in the blue light of the fire. "How long have you been having the visions, Ariella?"

Isolde knew. She knew about my visions. Finding my voice, I managed to choke out, "Not long. Since the end of Summer, maybe." She knew. How did she know? What had given me away? Relief coursed through me. At least I wasn't alone in this anymore. "How did you know?"

"I've suspected since you stole that vile of ice wyrm venom antidote, before anyone else realized what had happened. That was not a guess. You knew. I could see it on your face when I stopped you in the corridor that morning, but I didn't put the pieces together until now." She leaned forward, her black eyes shining in evident delight. "Before it happened, you knew. That's the only reason the Duke lived; if you hadn't seen it before the ice wyrm poisoned your father, you never would have made it to the mountain in time to save him."

So that was it. It wouldn't be long before she told everyone my secret, and then I didn't know what would happen. This was not a normal ability for any faery to have.

Isolde was gazing at me again as if she could see into my head. "Do you know what this means, Ariella?" she asked, her dark eyes no longer shining. She was leaning forward again, her feet dangling off the edge of the seat.

"You're going to tell everyone about me?" I guessed.

She looked taken aback for a moment before she burst into cackling laughter. "No! If I did that," she said, when she had suppressed her hilarity, "then everyone would want you. A little Seer to tell everyone their futures. Extremely valuable. This is why the Oracle has to change her appearance so often."

"Who's the Oracle?" I asked, but she waved the question aside.

"Now, this is very important, Ariella." Her laughter gone, she fixed me with another one of her intense, penetrating glares. "Tell no one about your visions. Ever. When the time comes that you are to play your part, you won't need to because they will already know. And remember this, if I am not there to advise you: Stories are the most valuable source of wisdom because they are true." She seized my hand and held it. "Promise that you will not tell anyone about your visions. Including me."

"You already know," I protested.

"As soon as you promise me this, I will erase my memory of this conversation ever taking place, as well as my knowledge of your visions. It will be as if I never figured it out."

So this would be my burden to bear, alone. I hesitated, but in the end, I promised her, and sealed my fate.

***

Several days after Isolde made me promise never to tell anyone about my visions, a messenger from the Winter Court arrived to formally invite the Duke of Glassbarrow to this year's Elysium.

I was at the desk in my room, poring over a book, but my mind kept drifting back to the visions and what they meant. Why did they come to me? What was I supposed to do with them, if anything?

The words I'd said to my father in that one odd moment of anger, about leaving and not coming back, were a constant, unshakable reminder. I didn't know what it meant, except that it filled me with a deep sense of dread.

It was a relief when Tiaothin popped her head into the room. "The messenger from the Court is here!"

Following the phouka back downstairs, her dreadlocks bouncing excitedly, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. How could my father attend Elysium if he could barely walk?

Unless he didn't go at all. Unless.... I represented him at Elysium. The idea made me feel faintly sick with a mixture of excitement and self-doubt. I was an obvious choice, of course, and this was something I'd always wanted - to be needed, to be useful. Why did it feel like a betrayal to think it?

Madame Isolde had already beat me to greeting the guest, apparently. The knight - a man in armor with whitish hair and black eyes - was in a silent glaring contest with the housekeeper, who allowed no strangers into the house without heavy scrutiny. The knight glanced up when I came in, dark eyes unreadable.

I was wearing a simple white blouse and pants, my hair in its usual braid tied with my mother's blue hair ribbon. Though the fey didn't share some humans' ideas that women shouldn't wear pants, compared with the finery of the Court, I no doubt appeared less than impressive. I pushed my shoulders back and lifted my chin.

"Dawon Thornguard, my lady," he said, bowing. A Thornguard. That explained his armor, then. He was a member of Prince Rowan's elite group of knights.

"Ariella Tularyn," I replied, bowing, and allowing him to take my hand and press it to his lips. It was something I wasn't used to or comfortable with. Even though I'd been trained how to act like a lady, having others treat me like one felt unusual. I was so close to everyone here and knew them so well, such formalities were mostly ignored. "Pleasure to meet you, Sir Dawon."

"The pleasure is mine, lady. I am here to extend a formal invitation to the Duke of Glassbarrow for the Winter Elysium on behalf of Queen Mab, sovereign of the Unseelie." The knight handed me the official invitation, a small, delicate scroll tied with a black satin ribbon.

I turned the scroll over in my hands, fingers tracing the elegant script and feeling as if I was betraying my father by simply touching it.

I wondered how to proceed. If I spoke to my father before giving the response, he would certainly have someone else go in his place. But if I announced now that I would be attending in his stead, he would not be able to revoke it. And he would be furious at me, maybe even more than he was now. I almost winced at the thought, and nearly decided against going, but then I thought of all the times I had wanted to leave, to experience something new. This was my chance.

I looked the knight straight in the eye. "Unfortunately, the Duke may be unable to attend due to a hunting accident." I took a deep breath. "I intend to represent him at court."

Madame Isolde inhaled sharply, no doubt holding back a rebuke. She knew better than to speak to me, a superior, in that fashion around guests, and held her tongue. But I knew what she would say. She would first say that it was not my place to interfere in my father's affairs of Court, which I knew, and then she would warn me that the Unseelie Court was not a place that one visits lightly, which I was also aware of. And I was not making the decision lightly. If my father saw fit to punish me, he could, but I was not going to be swayed. I was going, whether he wanted me to or not.

The knight gave me a slight smile, the only change in expression I'd seen at all from him, and bowed again. "It will be an honor to have you at Court," he said, and I sensed the conversation coming to a close, but then his eyes caught on something over my shoulder.

I whipped around to see the Duke standing behind us. He was paler than usual and he leaned on the support of a cane to help him stand, but his back was straight and his expression hard.

Isolde's eyes widened at the sight of him but again she stayed silent with a sharp look from the Duke. I could tell from the tight line of Isolde's mouth that he would get a good tongue-lashing later for being out of bed while still recovering.

The Duke glared at me icily, and I knew that I was in trouble. My stomach sank again with that odd sense of guilt. Then he switched his gaze to the knight standing beside me.

"You may tell the Queen that I will be attending Elysium alone, Sir Dawon," my father told the knight.

My vision flashed white. Not when I was so close. I would not allow him to keep me here forever. This was my decision, my choice, even if I didn't know exactly what it meant yet. "You are too ill to attend. I will represent you."

"You will mind your place," the Duke growled, ice beginning to creep along the walls, a sure sign that he was furious. A part of me recoiled, shrinking and terrified, but I gathered my courage, seeing that there was sweat on his brow from the unintentional use of his glamour in his weakened state.

"Father," I said, my voice low and firm. "You need to rest."

The Duke glared, but I took a step toward him and didn't break his gaze. I tried to convey everything - that I was sorry, that I loved him, that he needed to trust me, that he needed to let me go - in that look, begging him to understand and to let me help.

His shoulders slumped, and the ice stopped. "You do not know what you are doing." His voice was quiet and exhausted.

I crossed the foyer and took his arm, giving him my support. "I do," I told him, making my voice sound calm and sure, though below the surface I was confused, uncertain. I knew that I had to do this, that this was my chance to break through the barrier of isolation that had surrounded me my entire life, but knowing those things didn't make the decision any easier.

The Duke was panting, struggling to stay upright. I signalled to one of the guards. "Take the Duke to his chambers." He did not protest as they helped him out of the room, followed by the small, determined figure of Madame Isolde.

Seeing him go, I felt no triumph, even though I knew I had won.

"Lady," Sir Dawon said quietly, and I turned toward him."The Court is not a safe place," the Thornguard said, and my eyebrows rose in surprise at the warning. "You would do well to remember that. I will tell the Queen that it is still undecided who will come to represent Glassbarrow, so that they will not be expecting you. This meeting has gone on long, and I have other invitations to deliver." He bowed again and left before I could say anything.

I stayed in the foyer a moment, thinking about what he had said and allowing myself a tiny smile. The knight was doing me a favor with no strings - something mostly unheard of. He was giving me an advantage against the Winter courtiers; they would not expect me, so they would not be able to plan anything against me.

I tipped my head back and looked at the wyrm tusk chandelier, back in its rightful place. I'd always hated it for what it represented - the tusks were trophies collected from all of the ice wyrms my father had killed since Crystalia's death.

But there was now a pair missing. Before, the chandelier had seemed gruesome - to take pride in needless killing - but now I understood its true meaning: Revenge. Something I'd never wanted. Until now. After Elysium, I promised myself, I will track that monster down.

I retreated back to my room and lay on the bed, staring at the familiar canopy above my head and wondering if I had made the right choice.

All I had wanted for fifteen years was to leave Glassbarrow, and now that trip was looming on the horizon - along with the words I'd spoken to my father. Someday I will leave Glassbarrow and you will never see me again.

Not this time, I promised myself. But the promise to myself was one that I wasn't sure I could keep, and I amended it, feeling a spark ignite in my chest as I turned the words over in my head. This time, I will come back. If it seems for one moment that I might choose not to return, I promise you that I will come back at once, father. I will come back to you. I promise you this.

Perhaps I could prevent those words I'd spoken to him from coming true with this promise. For what I was afraid of was not that I would be killed upon leaving Glassbarrow, never to return, but that I would follow my darkest desire and flee of my own accord the memories that haunted these halls, the memories of those who were no longer here.

I stroked the soft fabric of my mother's hair ribbon as I fell asleep.

***


	3. The Court of Air and Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariella and her friend, Tiaothin, attend the Winter Elysium at the Unseelie Court, where Ariella meets a handsome and mysterious noble who is more than he seems.

All I had wanted for fifteen years was to leave Glassbarrow, and now that trip was looming on the horizon - along with the words I'd spoken to my father. Someday I will leave Glassbarrow and you will never see me again.

Not this time, I promised myself. But this promise was one that I wasn't sure I could keep, and I amended it, feeling a spark ignite in my chest as I turned the words over in my head. This time, I will come back. If it seems for one moment that I might choose not to return, I promise you that I will come back at once, father. I will come back to you. I promise you this.

It was the day before Elysium.

My nerves were frayed as I paced about my room, wanting to do something with my hands to occupy my body and my mind somehow, distract myself from what I had half-convinced myself was my impending doom. I didn't need to pack; we wouldn't be staying the night at Court. It was a half day's carriage ride there, and a half day's carriage ride back. I would only be there long enough to make an appearance, pay my respects to the Queen, if possible, and then I would return to Glassbarrow.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened before I could ask who it was. A black cat with familiar eyes darted into the room, and I laughed in slight exasperation. "Ti!"

Tiaothin shifted back into her primary form, grinning that sharp grin of hers. She was an odd sight - beautiful in an angular, feline way, her hair twisted in tight dreadlocks.

"I'm coming with you," she said, hopping onto my bed and sprawling out like a cat in the sun. She always did that.

"Coming with me?" I repeated, incredulous. "To Elysium?"

"Where else?" She winked, and I felt a rush of relief. I wouldn't be going alone, after all. All the more reason for me to return to Glassbarrow. Not that Ti was much of a rule-enforcer. Rule-breaking was her forte.

Another knock on the door, and a gruff voice said, "Ariella, it is time to get ready."

Ti's eyes widened in alarm, and she turned into a black rabbit and hopped out the open window, straight into the snow, quick and eager to get away from Isolde. It was a good thing, too, because not moments later Isolde and a herd of maids crowded into my bedroom, carrying materials for a dress. If Isolde had seen Tiaothin in here, nothing would have saved the phouka from a brutal flaying while she was still alive. The housekeeper was still mad about the chandelier.

I sighed as one of the maids began yanking a brush through my hair while another tried to take the measurement of my waist, envying Tiaothin her escape.

***

"Nice dress," Tiaothin remarked, admiring the shimmering blue folds spread out around me on the seat of the coach.

It really was a beautiful dress, floor-length, with an understated but elegant design. The fabric rippled when I moved, like glittering azure water. Madame Isolde had spent all of yesterday muttering that if I were to go to Elysium I might as well look like a lady, if not act like one. It wasn't that I couldn't act like a lady; I'd just never had occasion to. Or wanted to, really, if acting like a lady meant being like my aunt, Lady Chillsorrow, who was cold and calculating and utterly despicable. I had impeccable manners, but it was true that I had a volatile temper and a problem with authority.

I was staring out the window of the carriage at the passing lands. This was farther than I'd ever been outside of Glassbarrow, and I couldn't take in enough of the icy forests and tundras, the unfamiliar mountains in the distance. I'd looked at maps, of course, knew the terrain and the names of places by heart, but nothing could compare to being outside of Glassbarrow and seeing it all myself.

"Stop gaping," Tiaothin giggled. "Your jaw will drop off, and then you'll not look lovely at all."

I shot a glare with no ice behind it at where Ti was sitting on the seat beside me in a black tuxedo and top hat, which had holes cut into it so that her ears could poke out. According to her, human styles were becoming popular at Court. I guess this was her way of fitting in and standing out. Leave it to Tiaothin.

"Wake up on the wrong side of a goblin's cookfire this morning, Ari?" she teased, her cat ears twitching.

It seemed like there couldn't be any good side of a goblin's cookfire to end up on - unless you were the goblin, and you were eating the meal, but I didn't remark on this. I looked into Ti's cat eyes, sighing as I asked, "Why did I decide to bring you along again, Ti?"

"Oh, because seeing the Court is my dream. And you're my best friend." She emphasized those words in a teasing tone and tipped her hat to me, mockingly.

I smiled at her, my mood buoyed somewhat from anxiety to eager excitement. "What will it be like?" I asked her curiously. She listened to all the rumors that I never paid attention to - or tried not to pay attention to, anyway.

Tiaothin bounced in her seat, always too excited to keep still, and a mischievous look filled her golden eyes. "There will be many handsome lords to hunt." She flashed a naughty grin, the one that meant she was up to no good - which was always. "I can't wait to see the princes, of course. There's Prince Sage, the oldest. And the middle one, Prince Rowan. I hear he's extremely -"

"Okay, okay." I raised my hands in supplication. "Please, no more."

"No, no! I was just getting to the best part... Prince Ash." She giggled. "The youngest - though he's only a few decades younger than Rowan. Apparently, he spends most of his time away from Court, and he's absolutely impossible to catch the interest of, I've heard."

I rolled my eyes. "I asked what the Court would be like. I don't care about Court gossip. You're worse than a dryad." Listening to her talk about useless things was strangely comforting, though. A distraction from the future, which I had been thinking about much too often recently.

"Stop pretending you're not interested," Tiaothin teased. I swatted at her halfheartedly, and she dodged, grinning. Her canines glinted. "Don't worry. I will be right by your side, prepared to divert any handsome gentleman that sets eyes on you."

"Divert them to you, no doubt," I added with a smile.

"Oh, definitely." She winked, then laughed evilly.

I glanced at the window again and saw the vast, glassy surface of the lake that led into the city. "We're almost there!" I sat forward in my seat and watched as our carriage rolled into the lake and emerged into the faery city.

***

I stepped out of the carriage into the courtyard, gazing in awe at the gigantic ice palace of the Unseelie Court. It towered above me, proud and coldly beautiful. I had to crane my head back to see the tops of the tall, icy towers, spires glowing in the enchanted twilight. Orbs of lightning-blue faery fire bobbed in the sky of the cavernous underground city.

Glancing around for Tiaothin, I realized that she had disappeared in that sneaky way of hers. Perfect, considering I had no idea how to get where I needed to go. What happened to diverting gentleman? Not that there were any I could see - this courtyard was deserted except for those getting out of carriages and quickly hurrying off, knowing exactly where they needed to go.

I sighed and looked back up at the beautiful castle, wondering what I was going to do now. I could follow someone into the palace - we were all going to the throne room for Elysium, I assumed. Anxiety swirled inside me, a bitter blizzard, but it felt dwarfed by the gigantic structure of the stunning palace. I slowly turned in a circle to get a look at all of it.

Something moved out of the corner of my eye, and I jumped, startled and too caught up in my thoughts to realize somebody was standing there, seeming to have materialized out of the shadows. "Oh, pardon me!" I exclaimed, turning to face the arrival. "I didn't see you standing there."

"Are you lost?"

The voice was low, rich and deep, with a faint musical quality. I instinctively took a step back, blinking as I took all of him. The faery in front of me was tall and gracefully built. He was dressed in black and grey, and his shoulder-length hair was the color of a raven's wing. He gazed at me with cool silver eyes.

It was those stunning eyes that left me speechless for a few seconds, but when he turned to watch another carriage pull into the courtyard, I finally regained some of my composure.

"No, I'm not lost," I told him, and he regarded me again with cool, detached interest. My voice trembled slightly as I continued speaking, my thoughts completely scattered. "It's just.... I mean.... I've never been here, is all."

Silently, I cursed myself, wishing that Tiaothin really was here to make him go away before I humiliated myself more. Tiaothin, I thought sarcastically, handsome gentleman over here! Care to divert?

But I forced myself to concentrate - and remembered the greeting I'd come up with in the carriage. I cleared my throat and forced some strength into my voice, relieved when it came out sounding steady."I am Ariella Tularyn of Glassbarrow, and I am here on behalf of my father, the Duke of Glassbarrow. He is indisposed at the moment and sends his apologies for not being able to attend."

I smiled awkwardly at the handsome faery in front of me, reaching up to touch my braid and my mother's hair ribbon, a nervous habit. I realized that I was wearing my hair down and tucked a strand of it behind a pointed ear instead.

He still didn't say anything, his eyes continuing to bore into mine, and I began to think I'd said something wrong, so I rushed on. "I said that correctly, didn't I? That was the proper greeting, wasn't it?" I bit my lip, nervous and lost and suddenly, completely terrified, unsure if this stranger would help me or if I really was on my own. "I'm so new at this. I've never been to court before, and I don't want to upset the Queen."

Or my father. I would disgrace him if I didn't present myself well. My stomach tightened. This is all a huge mistake, I thought frantically. The Duke would have been better off sending one of his men instead, and had I listened? No, I hadn't, too blinded by my selfish desires to see clearly.

The noble's expression didn't alter, but something in his eyes changed and he offered me his arm. "Come on, then," he said, as I stared up at him. "I'll introduce you." Hesitantly, I took his arm.

An escort? Was this some sort of trick? Whatever his reason, it would be horrendously rude to refuse. I had to get through this, and for some reason, this nameless noble was offering me help. Even if it turned out to be an empty gesture to learn more about me or trick me, somehow, I was grateful for not being so alone. I flashed a smile up at him.

As the mysterious stranger led me into the palace, I surveyed him, taking in his fine clothes and graceful way of moving, and wondered who exactly he was. If he could introduce me to Queen Mab personally, then he must be high ranking in the Court. I'd memorized most of the names of the important Unseelie nobles as well as their basic background, even though I hadn't had cause to use any of the information until today.

If I recognized his name, I could possibly understand his motivations better and begin to predict what he wanted with me. Knowing about those around you was crucial to surviving the Court - a concept my father had taught me, whenever he was around to give me lessons.

I chose my words carefully this time. "Pardon me for asking, but as I said, this is my first time at Court, and I was wondering... Who are you?" I smiled politely.

The stranger glanced at me, eyes that held a hint of amusement capturing mine yet again. "You really don't know?" he muttered under his breath, as if to himself. The corner of his mouth curved in a wry almost-smile as he regarded me. At my confused expression, he let out a resigned breath and shook his head, all signs of amusement fading. "I am Ash, the third son of Queen Mab, if it please you," he said abruptly, looking away.

My smile vanished from my face.

Prince Ash?

The third son of Queen Mab. Prince of the Unseelie.

All this time, I had been talking to royalty, and I hadn't even known it. I stuttered, "Y-your Highness, I didn't know. I apologize...." My mind went back to the conversation in the carriage with Tiaothin, and I flushed in embarrassment. I started to pull my arm out of his, intending to curtsy, but he held up a hand.

"Please, don't," he said, almost-smile returning, this time looking more like a grimace. "I get enough of that already."

I nodded breathlessly and we continued walking through the palace, Ash - Prince Ash - guiding me in the right direction. My head was spinning.

"Why are you helping me, Your Highness?" I finally asked, when I could control my voice enough. My shock and confusion were so great that I wondered for a moment if this were a dream - a vision of some sort, even, though that thought was a desperate, silly grasp at the familiar in a sea of strangeness and nowhere close to the truth: That this was real, and he was real. Beside me.

Prince Ash looked at me carefully, his face betraying nothing of his thoughts, though his pale grey eyes glimmered with bemusement as he shook his head. "That, Lady Ariella, is an excellent question."

One that he did not intend on answering, apparently. I had no chance to respond as Prince Ash swept us through a pair of grand double doors that were carved with an intricate design of trees that soared toward the ceiling. We entered a crowded hall.

Fey bowed respectfully to us - to Ash, not me, I realized - as we strode by. Some eyes were on me, curious and calculating, sizing me up, while others barely flicked over me, dismissing me as soon as they saw me. I lifted my chin and swallowed my nervousness, meeting their cold stares and smiling as bravely as I could, because what else could I do? I had not yet mastered the menacing, mess-with-me-and-I'll-kill-you mask of His Highness, and smiling was probably the last thing anyone would expect.

I caught Prince Ash scrutinizing me and flushed yet again, the reaction a mixture of embarrassment and an odd emotion that sparked in me whenever his eyes turned my way. "What are you staring at?" I demanded, and then immediately realized that I forgot the 'Your Highness' and was about to apologize - again - for my misstep, when the prince just gave me an odd look.

"You're walking into a nest full of courtiers who are trying their best to figure out how to rip you apart, mentally - and physically," he said thoughtfully, looking at me as if I were some sort of bizarre creature he'd never seen before and he were only mildly curious of how I had come to be here. "By all rights, you should be terrified. How, then, can you possibly smile?" His gaze flickered to my lips, setting them to tingling and sending a thrill through my stomach, even though I knew I couldn't possibly want to kiss him. He was only dangerously, arrestingly beautiful, and I was no one to deny it.

Distracted, it took me a second to respond. "I am terrified," I admitted, meeting his bright silver, overwhelming gaze. I knew that emotions were dangerous in the Unseelie Court, but I felt the confession come pouring out as if I'd eaten a spill-your-guts mushroom. Foolish, warned a voice in my head. "I know I should be scared that someone will try to eat me alive, but I'm more terrified that I'll mess up and embarrass myself.... and my father." I held his eyes, needing him to understand.

"I'm just glad you were there to rescue me," I said, smiling slightly at the irony. "I probably would have gotten lost in this place."

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile as well, but his eyes sharpened, cold. "I'm just as dangerous as them, you know," he reminded me.

I felt the urge to roll my eyes. Of course he was dangerous - he was prince of Winter, after all. But I was Winter, too. "Begging your pardon, but I don't think you are half as terrifying as you believe yourself to be, Your Highness."

Prince Ash blinked once at this, then gave a soft, startled laugh, and smiled for the first time. It was small and wicked and sharp and slammed through all my barriers, so beautiful it nearly stopped my heart - which was supposed to be sheathed in unbreakable ice. I cursed the soft, traitorous thing as it stuttered painfully in my chest.

"You have no idea how terrifying I can be," he muttered darkly, but his eyes sparkled.

"Very frightening, I'm sure," I said lightly, before arching an eyebrow. "But I must know. Do you mean to threaten me? Do you truly think that I would be safer with someone else here than I am with you right now? And if so, who? I should go with them instead."

Ash stopped walking and turned toward me. His hand covered mine and he gazed down into my eyes. "You won't be safe anywhere in this Court," he murmured.

Before I could respond, we were interrupted by a knight - a Thornguard - standing in our path. He nodded to Prince Ash. "Prince Ash," he said, and I suddenly recognized him as Sir Dawon, the knight who had brought the formal invitation for Elysium to Glassbarrow, and given me the advantage of surprise against the Winter courtiers.

"Sir Dawon, how nice to run into you again," I said, sincerely glad to see him. A familiar face - even if it was one as stoic as the Thornguard's.

"Lady Ariella." Dawon inclined his head. "I assumed your father would be attending. This is a surprise."

I gave him a small conspiratorial grin and a wink. He'd known I would be representing my father, of course. "He's still recovering," I responded vaguely. Truthful, but not enough details for the prince beside me to piece together that Dawon had helped me. It was best to keep that piece of information to myself, for Dawon's safety. I owed him that.

"I wish him well." The knight switched his attention back to Ash. "Rowan is looking for you."

Ash's eyes narrowed. "Is he?"

"I was," said a voice, cool and amused.

We turned.

The faery who had spoken leaned against an ice column, watching us with eyes like blue crystal. "Dawon, you are dismissed." The knight turned and melted into the shadows.

"Ash," said the faery, grinning at us, eyes lingering on me. "Aren't you going to introduce me to the lady?"

"Rowan," said Ash smoothly, "this is Lady Ariella Tularyn of Glassbarrow, daughter of the Duke of Glassbarrow. Lady Ariella, this is Prince Rowan, second son of Queen Mab."

Prince Rowan was just as breathtaking as Prince Ash. Their most striking and apparent physical differences were their eyes - Rowan's were a icy blue, and Ash's were pale silver - and their expressions. Rowan wore an ever-present smirk, while Ash's face was studiously blank, almost bored. The small smile I'd already gotten used to seeing was gone.

"Your Highness." I curtsied, and Prince Rowan took my hand as I rose, pressing his lips to my knuckles. I felt my breath catch at the softness of them; it seemed wrong, for someone as lethal as an Unseelie prince to have those smooth, full lips. Though his eyes never left my face, I felt him studying everything about me, taking in every detail.

"It is an honor, my lady," he purred, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a crooked, dashing smile, looking up at me lasciviously through half-lidded, glittering eyes.

My lungs stopped functioning for a full second, my brain vaguely registering the sudden weakness in my knees. "The honor is mine," I answered dazedly, several beats too late, and his smile widened into a smug, self-satisfied grin.

And then Prince Rowan was back to being charming and gentlemanly again. "I don't believe I've ever seen you at court before, my lady," he said conversationally, though his eyes assessed me in the cold, hard way that I was beginning to suspect I would get from everyone in this place. He was testing me, probing my defenses, I realized, bristling. I felt the itch for an arrow again. Maybe it was just Rowan's face that triggered that reflex, not my embarrassment.

"This is my first time at court, Your Highness," I replied coolly, attempting to keep the edge out of my voice. I glanced at Prince Ash, who I was unsurprised to see had all the facial expression of a glacier wall as he stared at his brother, though his eyes were as sharp as ice daggers. If looks could be fatal, his would have killed Prince Rowan several times by now. I looked back at Rowan, striving to be civil. "My father is indisposed for the time being and couldn't come, so I'm here on his behalf."

Prince Rowan's smile widened even more, delight evident in his eyes, like a cat who'd just caught a plump, tasty mouse, and again I wanted to shoot him. It was definitely just his face, then. "First time at court, then," he said, though he didn't sound surprised - only as if he'd just had something he already knew confirmed. "I wish you an enjoyable Elysium, lovely lady. Would you do me the honor of saving me a dance?"

I refused to be a mouse; but though I desperately wished to say no, you simply didn't refuse to dance with a prince of the Winter court. "Of course, Your Highness," I said, sealing my fate. "I will be looking for you at the ball." While I hide behind an ice pillar for the rest of the night. I didn't say anything about approaching him so that he could claim his dance. And he didn't specify how long I had to save it - for my part, I was going to save it forever.

With one last charming smile directed at me, Prince Rowan turned to his brother, all traces of friendliness vanishing from his expression. He didn't bother to pretend he liked Ash. That much was clear in his ice-cold glare. "Mab wishes to see you, little brother," he said.

Prince Ash raised an eyebrow, as if the situation bored him, still otherwise expressionless, and didn't say anything.

"Apparently the Queen wishes for her favorite son to be by her side when the Summer court arrives," Prince Rowan continued, his smirk turning nasty.

Prince Ash didn't even blink. "Then I had best not keep her waiting." He offered me his arm. "My lady."

We swept off through the crowd, Prince Ash's presence parting courtiers like water. A redcap in our path didn't see us until the last second, but Ash showed no intention of slowing down, and the redcap leaped out of the way with not a second to spare, eyes wide, hissing in fear at the prince beside me as if he expected Ash to slice him in half. My eyes went to the glowing, blue sword sheathed at Ash's hip. I had no doubt he knew how to use it.

I wondered about Prince Rowan's and Prince Ash's conversation. Rowan had seemed almost... jealous.... of Ash when he spoke of their mother. By Ash's clenched jaw and hard eyes, I knew that this was not an irregular occurrence. Rowan and Ash did not get along.

But all of these thoughts were swept away like cobwebs when we reached the head of the throne room.

Queen Mab reclined upon her icy floating throne, beautiful and terrible. Long blue-black hair cascaded around her shoulders, dark as night, and her eyes were a pitiless and all-consuming black in her snowy white skin. Winter glamour pulsed from her like blood from an open wound, and even I noticed the drop in temperature, verging on uncomfortable.

"My Queen," Prince Ash said, stopping at the base of the throne and bowing deeply. I sank into my deepest curtsy as well, knowing that other members of the court were watching my every move, but barely caring - my eyes were riveted on the legend before me, my nerves prickling with a mixture of fear and awe. My heart hammered.

"Your Majesty," I said, desperately hoping that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was only standing there, so I didn't see how anything I could be doing was offensive, but that did nothing to ease the sudden terror pinning me in place. Maybe I should lay myself at her feet, beg for her attention - something I suddenly, desperately wanted. These thoughts flashed wildly through my mind before I realized that they weren't mine; they were a response to her presence. Her power over me.

I was not her subject. I was her slave, and she knew it.

If I'd been terrified before, I was positively petrified now.

The Queen of Air and Darkness spared me only a brief, chilly glance, and turned the rest of her attention to her youngest son. She spoke, her voice as soft and smooth as falling snow and yet as loud and harsh as cracking ice.

"Ash," Mab said, "My dearest son. How nice of you to join us. I was almost afraid something had happened to you, and then what would I have done? But I see now that you have just been entertaining our guests." At this, her dark gaze shifted back to me, and a predatory smile curled her lips. "You're new to Court. What is your name?"

I wondered how she knew that this was my first time at Court. Was it because she didn't recognize me, or was it something else? Something that Rowan had been able to pick up on, as well. That made me unmeasurably nervous.

I cleared my throat and spoke. "Ariella Tularyn, daughter of the Duke of Glassbarrow, Your Majesty. My father is unable to attend. This is my first time at court, Your Majesty, and Prince Ash was kind enough to show me around." My voice was clear and even, to my considerable relief, if not very loud.

Queen Mab smiled, ruby lips curling at the corners, as she seemed to study me, black glare impenetrable and inescapable. "As it is your first time at court, then, Lady Ariella, why don't you join me until Summer arrives?" I felt a jolt of surprise as she gestured to the steps beside her throne with an elegant white hand, a place usually reserved for those in the court who were lucky enough to gain her favor. From her tone, I could tell that it wasn't a question or even an invitation. It was a command.

With an apprehensive feeling in the pit of my stomach, I took Prince Ash's offered hand again as we climbed the steps, being careful not to show any hesitation, and I curtsied to the queen once more before I sat. Ash did not sit, rather he stood a few steps below me so that we were at the same height, gazing at his mother with an unreadable expression.

What would it be like to have this woman as your mother? I couldn't even imagine.

"Lady Ariella," said Mab. "What has happened to the duke of Glassbarrow that he is unable to attend Elysium?"

I resisted the urge to twist my hair into worried knots at the thought of him. "An ice wyrm hunting accident, Your Majesty," I said, rather reluctantly. I knew my father would not like to appear weak before the entire Court, but I couldn't exactly lie - all fey, save the half-breeds, were unable to lie, after all - and I couldn't refuse to answer my Queen, either.

"Is that so?" mused the Queen, and I experienced a brief second of panic where I thought she'd somehow sensed my thoughts, or perhaps I'd voiced them out loud after all. Then I realized that I was being paranoid and forced myself to calm down. She was only responding to the answer about my father, I reminded myself, though I was still shaken. "Well, then we can only hope that the Duke recovers soon, and perhaps he will be able to attend the next Elysium," Queen Mab continued, either not recognizing my alarm or dismissing it.

I was spared answering by the sound of trumpets, drawing all eyes to the entrance of the throne room.

Summer had arrived.

***


	4. Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of the arrival of the Seelie Court at the Unseelie Palace, Ariella finds herself immersed in court intrigue and Prince Ash makes her an all-too-tempting proposition.

The sound of trumpets drew all eyes to the entrance of the throne room.

Summer had arrived.

First were a pair of Seelie knights, dressed in dark green armor, both bearing the banner of the Seelie Court, a magnificent stag. Following them was a gigantic troll, glaring menacingly at the ogre guards stationed in the corners of the room, who glowered back.

Piskies fluttered in, trailing long strands of flowers and bells; centaurs and satyrs trotted behind them, their hooves clacking on the frost-covered floor; gnomes, dwarves, leprechauns, kitsunes, sylphs, sprites, wisps, even a pair of rock giants, entered the room, sweeping in with the smell of flowers and sunshine. There were so many, I could scarcely believe my eyes. I'd never seen a single Summer faery, never before in my short life, and seeing this many in one place was almost too much for me to take in at once.

The Seelie nobles came in, bright hair of gold, copper, chestnut, and amber done up elaborately with ribbons and jewels, in beautiful dresses and tunics made of everything from gemstones to butterflies and colorful flowers, to strands of woven grass, their skin glowing and warm from the eternal sunshine of Summer.

I was well aware that I was gawking, but no one was looking at me anyway. The Unseelie fey tensed, not mingling with the Seelie fey, due to an eternity of hatred interspersed with battle and bloodshed and shaky truces that lasted only a few centuries at a time. It was a horrible feeling, this hatred, pulsing through the throne room, a sleeping beast that could awaken at any moment. Though it was against the laws of Elysium to engage in violence, it still lingered just beneath the surface. Waiting to strike.

"His Majesty King Oberon, King of the Seelie Court, and Her Majesty Queen Titania, Queen of the Seelie Court," a voice announced.

The Seelie rulers entered, along with a legion of Summer knights.

King Oberon, the Erlking, was tall, slender as the limb of a willow tree, his long silver hair shining like moonlight. Green eyes smoldered beneath his antlered crown, and an aura of flickering, immense Summer glamour thrummed around him with the deep, ancient presence of an old forest. His presence was about as subtle as an earthquake.

Queen Titania stood beside him, dressed in a gown of glittering sapphires that matched the blue of her eyes, her pale, luminous gold hair piled on her head and topped with a diamond-encrusted silver crown. Her power was a deadly summer storm roaring around her, snapping with lightning and thunder.

Mab stood and floated gracefully down from her throne, her ruby gown pooling around her like freshly spilled blood, to take a seat at the head of the long white table in the center of the room, and began talking with Oberon and Titania, welcoming them to the Court.

Elysium was a show; by attending it you demonstrated your dedication to Winter and to Queen Mab. There were no official proceedings except for the discussion of treaties between Seelie and Unseelie rulers.

Music began to play in the corner, beautiful, dark, passionate music that drew my eyes away from the fey rulers to a corner stage, where an orchestra played their instruments. But the musicians weren't fey. I did double take and squinted at them, then glanced in surprise to Ash. "Humans?" I asked, entranced in the lovely song and my first sight of what had been, until now, only myth to me.

He nodded, his gaze following mine. "Mab collects some of the best musicians in the mortal world. They'll have no memory of this when they return," he said, then amended, "If they return." His voice was dismissive.

I shuddered as I saw a group of goblins eyeing the humans hungrily. "That doesn't seem fair," I said, still watching the glazed eyes of the mortals as they played with sparking, passionate emotion. It rose off of them in waves, dizzying in its intensity. I already felt stronger. "Taking them away from their homes and families to serve us."

"Mortals are blind, and their lives are short," Ash responded, as if that explained anything.

But I wondered; he was older than me, and surely he knew more about the nature of mortals than I did. The music swelled around me, urging me to dance and leap and spin, but I stayed put, eyes on the humans. "All that emotion... don't you think it's beautiful?" I asked.

I finally turned to look at Prince Ash. He still stood a few steps below me, gazing out at the crowd of fey with a faraway expression. Sensing me watching him, he glanced back up at me, silver gaze impenetrable.

The music serenaded me, promising relief from all of the stress I'd been experiencing since I got my first vision, and I voiced the question that the song called out to me. "Care to dance, Prince?"

His face was stony. "I don't dance."

I narrowed my eyes for a second, weighing the best words that would convince him to lighten up. I felt a sudden desire to see him smile again. "You don't, or you can't?" I teased. "Afraid you won't be able to keep up? That you'll step on my toes?" When music played, I felt daring, and I suspected Ash wouldn't back down from the challenge. He was too proud.

"I'm a prince of the Unseelie Court." He half-smirked, as he offered me his hand, eyes sparking. "I'm not afraid of anything."

I grinned, placing my palm in his. "All right, Prince," I said. "Let's see what you can do."

He drew me down the steps of the dais, out into the center of the crowd. A little bubble of space seemed to form around us, and I knew it was due to Ash's presence. The courtiers were constantly aware and wary of him, though they watched us now with an edge of predatory curiosity.

Then we were off, a blur across the ballroom. When I spun, the skirt of my dress lifted around us, sparkling blue, my loose hair a streak of silver billowing out behind me.

When the song ended, I swayed in Prince Ash's arms, closer than I remembered being. I laughed, faintly embarrassed but not caring, and pulled away, relaxed and smiling.

"So, Lady Ariella," Prince Ash murmured. "What's the verdict - can I in fact dance?" He asked this with a small smile that told me he knew the answer.

I was still breathless, but I managed a smirk and said, "You can, but that doesn't mean you should." My taunt was diminished by the breathiness of my voice. I felt light as a snowflake, careless and dizzy with the abundance of human emotion in the room. It was like a drug.

Prince Ash's eyes glittered; I knew he felt it too. "You like dancing; admit it," I said.

"It's been a while," was all he said.

I let it drop and brought up something else instead. "You never answered my question, you know," I told him.

His lips twitched into the tiniest of bemused smiles. "Which one? You have a lot of questions."

I rolled my eyes."Why are you helping me?"

Shadows flickered across his face and were gone. "I don't mean you any harm, Lady Ariella," he said, which wasn't the answer I wanted.

"Ari," I blurted reflexively. "Call me Ari, please, Your Highness." My father called me Ariella, and right now I didn't want to be reminded of him.

"I will agree to call you Ari," he challenged, his eyes glinting, "if you call me Ash."

My eyes widened, then I realized, seeing the challenge in his gaze, that he was making a joke... A joke? I decided to play along. "Oh, Your Highness, I really shouldn't," I teased. "It would be improper. Who knows what they would think..."

His silver eyes narrowed, his amusement vanishing, and he said in a hard voice, "Don't make me order you to call me Ash."

Did he really mean it? Oh, this was unbelievable. But his face was serious, all hints of humor gone, replaced with that glacial mask. I waited for it to fade, for him to drop the act, thinking he still might be joking... His face never changed.

Until he grinned. "You know, if I wanted to trick you, it would be very easy," he said.

I scowled, trying to retain a sense of dignity, though the corners of my lips resisted, tugging upward. "I am not easy to trick. I knew you were joking. Suspected it. Somewhat." He smirked. I tried to keep the glower locked in place, but it was no use. I smiled back. "You cheated."

"Oh? That's a dangerous accusation." He lifted a lazy eyebrow.

"You pulled the Prince card. If you ordered me to call you Ash, I would have to."

Ash waved a hand dismissively. "I only used one of the many resources at my disposal. That's hardly cheating."

We were drifting around the ballroom, dancing to a new song played by the orchestra accompanied by the haunting singing of a faery, when a beautiful girl with green-streaked azure hair and milky skin floated up to us. Her dress, I noticed, was made completely of a material that appeared to be semi-transparent snowflakes. It invited stares, and I didn't blame her. She was beautiful, like all of the fey gentry.

"Prince Ash," she purred, gazing up at him through long indigo lashes.

"Snowberry," said Ash, seemingly uninterested. "What do you want?"

"Oh, Prince Ash, won't you dance with me? We had such a great time at last Winter's Elysium..." The girl, Snowberry, pouted at him.

I looked back and forth between them. They obviously knew each other. Ash stared flatly at her, but I smiled devilishly. "Go ahead," I told Ash, who barely had time to shoot me a surprised, rather accusing look before a triumphant Snowberry dragged him off.

I snorted in amusement, relishing that look on his face. It was fun to catch him off guard, now that I knew that I could.

After they left, I gazed around at the dancing, milling faeries and wondered where Tiaothin was. I searched for a top hat and furry ears, but saw no sign of the phouka. I did see other phoukas, as well as a variety of other Unseelie denizens - redcaps, goblins, ogres, spriggans, hobs, bogeys, kobolds, and many others.

The Unseelie danced wildly in celebration of Winter, filling the massive room with their presence. The Seelie didn't dance much. They were mostly grouped together in the corners and behind their rulers, looking uncomfortably cold, clouds of breath misting the air in front of them. Curious, I drifted toward a party of Summer sidhe girls.

"Hello," I said to one of them, a girl with chestnut hair and mossy green eyes. "I'm Ariella." I smiled, hoping it would make me less intimidating.

The girl blinked in shock and her friends around her twittered like anxious birds. "Annwyl," she murmured at last, with her own hesitant smile.

"What brings you to the Winter Elysium? This is my first time at Court myself. A lot to take in, isn't it?" I gestured around us at the icy throne room and the dancing Winter fey.

I stared at the Summer girl, fascinated. Her skin seemed to glow with sunshine even in the cold light of Winter. Having never been outside of the Winter realm of Tir Na Nog, true, undiluted sunlight wasn't something I'd ever experienced.

"Yes, it is a lot to take in," Annwyl replied carefully. "This is my first time, too. Queen Titania brought me along." Annwyl flicked her eyes to Titania, seated at the high table - who happened to be looking right at us, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Annwyl swallowed. I noticed then that a lot of faeries in the crowd around us were staring, a few of them whispering.

A Winter girl and a Summer girl, speaking.

The implications struck me. Even if Seelie and Unseelie were in a truce, socializing with one another and doing anything but avoiding each other like the other was made of iron was considered unusual. I'd been raised with the idea that Summer was the enemy, but had never been able to hate those I'd never met. It was just one more thing to set me apart from the rest of the Winter fey if I acted friendly.

"I apologize for bothering you," I said quickly, giving her a small departing smile before retreating back into the crowd.

As I turned away, my eyes caught on Prince Rowan, standing in the corner with a beautiful girl, her hair the color of red wine, hanging thick and tangled down her back, though her skin was a bright, unnatural white, like the color of sun shining off the snow. Unseelie, then. While I watched, Rowan pushed her up against an ice pillar, none too gently, and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh and kiss him.

I gawked for a moment at the open display before I turned and walked in the opposite direction.

And ran straight into my aunt, Lady Chillsorrow.

My aunt was just how I remembered her. She looked unnervingly like the picture of my mother, despite them being only half-sisters - raven hair, snowy skin, heart-shaped face, and large, bright teal eyes, the same ones I possessed. But that was where the similarities stopped. She was taller than me, the planes of her face sharp and cruel, her pale mouth pursed to a wicked, calculating line. And her eyes had none of the sparkle that my mother's had in her portrait, the sparkle that made me love her despite never having known her; Lady Chillsorrow's eyes were as flat and dead as a shark's.

She gave me a chilly smile that didn't even try to be friendly. "Hello, niece," she said. "Fraternizing with the Seelie? Thinking about converting?"

"Just talking." I tried to summon up a smile, but the truth was that my aunt and I had never gotten along. In fact, I loathed her probably more than anyone else I'd ever met. Ever since she visited me when I was ten years old and still a child, I had despised her.

I remembered her unannounced visit to the manor, how my father had greeted her and welcomed her in. I could tell he was uncomfortable even as he tried to be civil. She'd glanced around and made some snide comment about my father's title being superfluous, though I hadn't known what that meant at the time. And then she'd seen me, grabbed my chin roughly and looked at my face, studying it. "Just like her mother," she'd said, as if it were some insult.

Afterward, I'd asked my father why she hated me so much. He explained that back when he and Crystalia met, before he'd won his title, he'd been far below her in rank. Lady Chillsorrow was Crystalia's older half-sister, and her only surviving family. She forbade Crystalia from marrying my father, several times, though they still met each other in secret for years. When he'd finally been granted Glassbarrow and the title of Duke by Queen Mab, Crystalia and the Duke married without her blessing anyway. Lady Chillsorrow hadn't spoken to my sister since, and only visited that one time, almost ten years after Crystalia's death. To see me, I supposed.

Now, Lady Chillsorrow tssked. "Consorting with the Seelie. What would your father think? Tarnishing the esteemed Ice Baron's reputation." She laughed mockingly. Ice Baron had been my father's title shortly before he was promoted to Duke of Glassbarrow. Some still called him that, but the way she said it made me angry.

I gritted my teeth to prevent myself from snapping at her, from letting her get any sort of rise out of me. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing her words have that effect on me.

She continued before I could come up with a response. "I heard about your father's accident. I do hope he recovers soon. And if he doesn't, well, I suppose you could come live at Chillsorrow with me until you're old enough to manage his lands."

I couldn't help it; I flinched. "He's recovering just fine," I said stiffly. "And begging your pardon, but I am quite old enough to be Duchess."

She smiled indulgently. "Oh, I know, dear, but you should have some instruction from someone who has real experience."

I narrowed my eyes. "My father's been duke of Glassbarrow for most of his life. He has plenty of experience with ruling." There was some other thing that she wanted, probably, some cost for her offered assistance, and I wouldn't take the bait.

"And I've been Lady of Chillsorrow since before he was even born," she said, raising an elegant eyebrow. "You're my niece, Ariella. Offering you guidance is the least I can do." Her voice was too sweet, her words honeyed, and I knew there was some underlying message or purpose to them that I didn't understand.

"I appreciate the offer," I said, failing to keep the sharpness out of my voice this time. "But I don't need your help."

Lady Chillsorrow tittered. "Well," she said, with a scornful air, "At least I tried." Throwing me a mocking smile, she took the arm of some gentleman I didn't recognize who had been standing nearby and drifted back into the throng and out of sight.

I felt like shooting something. I glared in the direction my aunt had gone, wishing I could put an arrow through her face.

"How interesting," said Prince Rowan, materializing beside me. I startled, and whirled to face him. His blue eyes burned into me, a smug smile curving his lips at having caught me off guard.

"Your Highness," I said cautiously. The way he watched me, like a hawk tracing the movements of its prey, made me nervous. I didn't like it at all. In fact, it rather made me want to slap him. Not that I would, of course, unless he really made me mad. I resolved that I wouldn't let him.

"Lady Ariella, I believe you promised me a dance earlier," Rowan said with a grin that made my heart beat faster, despite myself. The sensation unnerved me. "Unless you've changed your mind, of course. I'm sure there are many other gentleman that you'd much prefer to dance with. I won't keep you from them."

It was true that I'd rather dance with an ogre than with Rowan, though I doubt he would appreciate me voicing this thought out loud. But however I declined his offer to dance, it would be an insult.

"There's no one else," I told him, as I took Rowan's offered palm. If he tried anything with me, I swore to myself that, prince or not, I would kick him very hard in an strategically important area.

"What about my brother?" he asked, putting one of his hands on my waist familiarly.

"Another girl asked him to dance. Snowberry, I think her name was."

Rowan looked smug. As a new song began playing, he led me into the dance. It was an unfamiliar, more complicated step and I realized Rowan was possibly the better dancer between him and Ash, as he probably had more practice.

"So what about you?" I asked when I finally found my footing.

He raised a bemused brow at the question.

"Don't you have someone you'd rather dance with? You and that girl seemed very intimate earlier."

"She's just a friend," he murmured, blue eyes blazing into mine.

I dropped my gaze. "I don't believe I've ever behaved in such a way with one of my friends." My cheeks went hot.

"Behaved in what way?" he asked. I looked up to see an amused grin on his face. He was teasing me.

"W-well," I stuttered inarticulately. My blush deepened, and I made the mistake of gazing directly into his sapphire eyes as he spun me closer. I was momentarily entranced, as I had been earlier, and I had to force myself to look away before I did something stupid.

Furious at myself, I let out a breath and looked up, anywhere else but at the prince, as if I could escape him just by pretending he wasn't there. Will-o'-the-wisps bobbed among the icicles on the ceiling and the ice pillars holding it up, like dancing stars moving to their own beat.

Prince Rowan followed my gaze. "Enchanting, isn't it?"

I found myself murmuring agreement, forgetting to be careful around him as the music grew to a crescendo. For a moment I was lost in the dance, my breath coming in gasps as it drew to a close. My skin was flushed, my whole body alight as it had been earlier, when I danced with Ash.

Rowan dropped my hands in the momentary pause between music, watching my reaction with a curious expression.

"It's the music," I explained, my voice coming out slightly breathy. "And the dancing. It always does this to me."

His puzzled expression only seemed to intensify. "Why?"

"I love music. Dancing to it makes me euphoric, like..." I paused, frowning at him. Was I actually having this conversation with Prince Rowan? "It's incomparable to anything else, really," I finished hesitantly.

He cocked a brow and then leaned closer to me. "I can think of a few things," he purred in my ear.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. Rowan couldn't toy with me if I didn't let him. He only wanted me because he thought he could have me, but I was the one with the power here. With this in mind, as a new song started up, I asked, "Dance with me again?"

He grinned. "I would love to," he said, and put his hand on my waist again, taking my hand. His smiles came easily, unlike Ash's, and unlike my aunt's they held traces of real humor and amusement. This, I realized, was his way of hiding his true emotions. Rather than pretend he didn't have any, as Ash did, he covered them up with a careless smile that said he thought the whole world was a joke.

"Do you mean it when you smile?" I asked, curiously.

He cocked his head to the side, smirking at me. "Yes," he said confidently.

I nodded. It was real amusement, I thought, but the question was if it concealed anything. "Do you have any other expression besides amusement?" I asked, letting annoyance color my tone.

He laughed. "No," he said, with a grin.

"Hmm," I said, as he spun me. "That's boring." I pretended to yawn, covering my mouth with a hand, and blinked innocently at him, concealing the laughter that threatened to bubble up in my chest.

Rowan's sapphire eyes twinkled as he narrowed them. "Come here and say that," he purred, his voice a challenge. He applied a gentle pressure to my waist that drew me closer to him. There was something about his voice - a thorn embedded in velvet, caressing me even as it drew blood, somehow blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

I shook my head and pulled away, smiling slightly. "Not interested," I said, shrugging one shoulder rather apologetically.

His amused demeanor didn't even slip, and he shrugged and smirked, spinning me around again as we danced. "A heart of stone," he mused. "I can see why you and my little brother get along so well."

It wasn't that I was choosing Ash over Rowan. In fact, I wasn't choosing Ash at all. But I felt no curiosity about Rowan, whereas with Ash I couldn't help but wonder what exactly his motivations were for helping me. Rowan's motivations were clear. Ash's weren't. That was all, I told myself.

As the dance came to a close, I spotted Ash in the crowd, coming toward us. "I appreciate your company, Prince Rowan," I said, meaning it. "It was very nice to meet you."

"The pleasure was all mine," Rowan said, sapphire eyes still studying me as he spoke.

I dropped into a curtsy and allowed him to kiss my hand. Ash appeared at my side, expression unreadable as always. I stepped away from Rowan and smiled at him, about to ask about Snowberry, but he spoke first.

"Ariella," he said, not even glancing at Rowan. I blinked at the casual use of my name without the honorific. "Before we were interrupted earlier, I was going to show you the gardens. Would you still like to go?"

I almost grinned. "I would love to." I linked my arm with his and glanced back over my shoulder at Prince Rowan only once as we walked away.

He winked, catching me looking, and I whipped my head back around, flustered. Unbelievable! It was as if he wanted me to shoot him in his annoyingly handsome face.

***

"Where are we really going?" I asked, a little while later.

Ash gave me an unreadable look.

I glanced around for the lurking form of Snowberry, but she was gone. "How'd you get rid of Snowberry so fast?"

"I have my ways," he responded darkly, as he guided me away from the crowd.

Something about being back in his presence made me reckless enough to joke with him. I felt as giddy as if I had downed too many glasses of Frostwine.

"Well, you didn't have to kill her," I pointed out with an innocent smile. "Poor girl just wanted some princely attention."

Ash glared. "I didn't kill her."

I grinned, knowing I was getting under his skin. "You knocked her out and hid her behind an ice sculpture?" I asked sweetly.

"No."

I let myself be led out of the throne room, relieved to be away from the prying eyes, and into a passage smaller than the one we'd come through before, with walls of the same smoky ice."That's what I would have done."

He gave an exasperated snort. "I didn't want to dance with her," he said.

"Why not?" I asked innocently.

"You seem to find ways to get into trouble even in my briefest of absences."

Ash didn't want to dance with her, but he wanted to dance with me? I bit my lip to hide my smile."What trouble are you referring to?"

"I saw you speaking to the Summer girl."

"Yes, and it was just that. A simple conversation. I was only curious, Ash." I realized with a start that I'd said his name, no 'Your Highness' or 'Prince' attached.

He continued speaking as if I hadn't called him by just his name. "And you got the attention of Queen Titania. Don't do that again. There are consequences to consorting with Summer. If you're going to commit treason, at least do it where no one can see you."

I rolled my eyes. "Talking is treason, now?"

"Talking to the wrong person is."

"Why do you care what I do?" I asked. I had to know; I knew what I hoped his reason was.

"I shouldn't care," Ash said, almost to himself.

"Please tell me what you mean." I watched him, and though his face betrayed no emotion, I could tell there was something just beneath the surface.

Then he pushed me into an alcove. A very small alcove, hidden behind a column of ice. My heart thundered, being alone in such close quarters with him as he turned to me, pinning me with his silver eyes.

"When I saw you, I knew that you would be a target for the courtiers. You don't realize it, but every thought you have, every emotion, shows on your face. I couldn't let them destroy you. And I don't know why, but against my better judgement, I decided to help you." He spoke quietly, slowly, as if it were difficult to say.

"Well," I whispered, a little breathlessly, "I'm sorry for making it so hard on you, then."

He breathed a laugh. "Would you like to see the gardens?"

"Yes," I said. Anything for a little more time with him, though I knew it was foolish of me to want that. I almost didn't care.

***

It turned out that there was a hidden door in the alcove that led to the gardens. I tried not to be disappointed that had been the reason he'd pushed me into the corner, not that he planned to kiss me ravenously. Embarrassingly, that had been my first thought.

On the other side of the hidden door was a courtyard. Snow dusted the cobblestones, and the winding paths were lined with bare-branched trees, limbs covered with frost and icicles hanging precariously from the undersides of the branches.

"These are the gardens?" I asked, eyebrows raised at the barren landscaping.

"Shortcut," he explained. He offered me his arm and this time I took it without hesitation.

Peaceful silence stretched between us as we walked, filled with the faint song of tinkling icicles during a phantom breeze.

I realized I didn't really know anything about Ash and tried to come up with a way to ask about him."What do you do when you're not being a prince?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm always a prince."

I laughed. "You know what I mean."

"What would you say if I asked you what you do when you're not being a lady?" he asked, deliberately avoiding the question and turning it around on me.

I fell for it. Talking to him was too easy. "I like archery. There's this tree at the edge of the forest at Glassbarrow that I sometimes use for target practice. I also like maps." I winced as the last bit came out.

Ash noticed my expression. "Maps?" he asked, touching the back of my hand and cocking his head to the side as he looked at me. "Of Winter?"

It was impossible to refuse him when he looked at me like that. And he knew it, too. His silver eyes drew the answer out of me. "Yes, but Summer and the Wyldwood too. And... the mortal world. I like studying them. And drawing them."

We reached an archway covered in dark, thorny vines, the entrance to the gardens. I momentarily forgot everything as I took in my surroundings.

The pathway was lined with Winter flowers - blooms in indigo and scarlet and inky black, all dusted with a layer of frost. Among them were sprinkled a few of the crystal flowers that grew around Glassbarrow, petals made entirely of ice. The frozen forest around us was filled with life, slumbering beneath the surface of everything and exploding in sudden bursts of color against the stark black and white.

Ash brought me back with a question."Why do you study maps?"

I bent to examine a blue rose and the lace-like pattern of ice on its petals, partly to hide my pained expression from Ash. "Maybe because I've never left Glassbarrow. I suppose I hope to see the rest of the world, someday. But that probably won't happen," I said bitterly.

"Why can't you?"

Did he ever stop asking questions? And to think he had complained about me earlier. I answered anyway. "My father."

"So that's why you never left until now."

I blinked, surprised at how perceptive he was. "You knew?"

"I had suspicions."

Of course he did. And if he kept up this interrogation, he'd end up knowing everything about me. I decided to turn it around. "You never answered my question. What do you do... in your spare time? And don't even think about evading the question this time. I told you about myself. It's your turn."

He stared at the trees on the side of the path with a small smile, and then spoke to me surprisingly openly. "I hunt."

Hunting. I wouldn't have pegged him as a hunter, but now that I looked at him it made sense. He had a sword at his hip, his hair was slightly untidy, as if it hadn't been trimmed in a while, and he moved with a sort of lethal grace that spoke of long practice. I could picture a bow and arrow strapped to his back easily, and I wondered instantly if I could outshoot him.

He laughed, and it was then that I realized I'd spoken the last part aloud. "You don't think I could?" I asked, a little offended. "I might surprise you."

"You might," he murmured.

"Do you enjoy hunting?" I hoped for some insight into whatever emotions played behind that mask.

Ash chuckled without smiling. "It's much better than being stuck here. Yes, I suppose I enjoy it."

It occurred to me that if he hunted a lot, he might have a hunting partner. "Alone?"

His lips twitched. "Sometimes."

I wished he would stop being so cryptic. So he didn't hunt alone all the time.... Who did he hunt with, then? "Do your brothers hunt with you?"

"Rowan did, before he became so entangled in Court politics. Sage and I have, a few times, but he tends to distance himself from both me and Rowan."

I knew Ash and Rowan didn't get along; it surprised me that they had ever been close, with the way they seemed to dislike each other now. Or maybe it had always been that way, for all I knew. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to grow up without any sort of love, without any real family.

I thought of my own family. Of my mother and of North, who were gone. Of the Duke, sitting in his bed, ill and weak, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. I stopped walking in the middle of the path.

"Ariella?" he asked, turning back to me.

I shook my head. I couldn't go back there, to Glassbarrow. With all its ghosts. How could I face anyone? My father, most of all, after what I'd said to him.

Ash took my hand, and I jumped, startled from my thoughts. I gazed up at him, my heart beating erratically. He was close. Too close. I wanted him closer. Why did I want him closer? "Would you like to come hunting with me sometime?" he asked me.

Startled from my heated thoughts, I could only blink. "What?"

"You want to see more of the Nevernever. I can show you."

For a moment, I considered it. We could leave right now. No one would know.

I gasped as I felt the tug of my secret promise to my father tug at my heart, like a string. Binding me to Glassbarrow. Pulling me back.

I'd promised that I would go home if I even considered leaving. That oath compelled me to return now. It was impossible to ignore, to fight, but I struggled against it anyway. Not now, I thought frantically.

Ash stared at me, concern in his eyes. "Ari?"

My name on his lips made me meet his stare. "I can't," I whispered. "I have to go back. I'm sorry." My hand slipped out of his. Turning on my heel, I fled the garden, leaving a lovely, enigmatic, and very confused prince in my wake.

***

Tiaothin pounced on me as I entered the throne room again. "Where did you go?" she asked, her sibilant voice slurred. She had a nearly empty glass of Frostwine gripped in her claws, and a smear of lipstick on her cheek. Her top hat was slightly askew.

"We're leaving," I told her, before my body carried me away. I kept thinking of how I'd run away from Ash like a complete idiot. He must think I was out of my mind.

Bewildered, she half-ran to keep up with my long strides. "Why?" she asked.

"Ash asked me to go hunting with him," I told her under my breath.

"Ash!" she exclaimed, loud enough for those around us to hear. We received a few inquisitive stares. "As in Prince Ash?"

I nodded, focused on fighting my way through the crowd without falling flat on my face. Whenever I slowed, the string attached to my heart gave a sharp, painful tug.

Tiaothin chattered questions at me, which I mostly ignored. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and wishing I'd never made that promise. I wanted to go with Ash. I wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him better, see places with him. It was a completely alien desire for me. Which was exactly why I had to leave. Glassbarrow tugged on one side of my heart, the longing for what Ash had offered me pulling on the other.

As soon as Tiaothin and I were alone again in the courtyard waiting for our carriage, Tiaothin started giggling.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. If she was laughing at me, I might consider feeding her to a goblin tribe. I wasn't in a particularly good mood.

"Cinderella," she snickered.

"What?"

"A human... fairytale." She giggled again at the term, then hissed at my blank stare. "A girl goes to a ball, dances with the prince, then flees before midnight."

I raised a brow, thinking that the story sounded familiar. I thought Isolde had told it to us once. "So, are you implying that this story is about me?" I asked, hopelessly missing the point.

"No, it's about me." She rolled her eyes.

I pretended not to recognize her sarcasm. "Which prince did you dance with?"

She threw her clawed hands up in the air in exasperation. "I'm not Cinderella! I'm the fairy godmother!" She mimed waving around a magic wand.

I laughed, feeling better already at the thought of any princess unlucky enough to be cursed with Tiaothin as a fairy godmother. And yet, the thought failed to distract me from my sudden - and disturbing - longing for someone I'd only just met.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! Here is the link to the full-length fanfiction on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/83370801-the-iron-seer


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